


Girls Interrupted

by ArtificialMaeve



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Angst, Angst and Drama, Anxiety, Cheerleaders, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Depression, Drag Queens, Drama, Drama AU, Drinking, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Fluff, High School, High School AU, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian AU, Lesbian Character, Opposites Attract, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Partying, Pining, Slow Burn, Smoking, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Theater AU, Underage Drinking, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23208490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtificialMaeve/pseuds/ArtificialMaeve
Summary: Katya Zamolodchikova is a tragic optimist, but that doesn't stop her from walking into her junior year of high school with her head held high. She's new, improved, and ready to succeed until one Violet Chachki comes barreling into her life—well, her lab station—at feel speed. Over the course of the school year, Katya's good intentions will get her into heaps of trouble as she juggles schoolgirl crushes, new responsibilities in the theater department, and coursework. It's not easy being a teen, but the relationships Katya finds along the way might just make these token four years in hell worth it.
Relationships: Sharon Needles/Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, Violet Chachki/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	1. The Institution: 1, Katya: 0

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi, everyone! I suppose this is my debut as a fan fiction author, and I’m super nervous. I never thought that I would be a writer, myself, but when I suggested a Vatya fic outline, some lovely people encouraged me to give it a try. ConCrit is always welcome! I tried my hardest, and I hope you enjoy! EEK!

August air is like a woman in heat: wet, warm, and not in the mood to do favors. 

The short walk from her baby blue Beetle to the cafeteria doors left Katya sweating like a hooker in church. “Part-time-clown working a corner in the Red Light District” was a solid look, but Katya was beginning to doubt that it was the right choice for the first day of the new school year. The fabric of her long-sleeved dress clung to her skin uncomfortably.

 _If the funfetti doesn’t cover my sweat stains, I’m suing_ , Katya thought.

She tried to smooth down the sheer fabric out of habit. Katya took a deep breath before throwing open the glass door and bracing herself for a head-on collision with nostalgia. White floors, harsh light, kitchen clatter—too much for a wednesday.

 _It’s an A/B day. First period: English, room 316._ She repeats the mantra again and again in her head. If she loses the thought, she’ll never be able to find her way back.

 _Pussy_ , she chastised.

Katya’s bright red combat boots plunk across the linoleum and up three flights of rubber stairs. She might apologize for shattering the silence if anyone else were around, but the English corridor remains silent.

She, In her loud dress and noisy shoes, looked very out of place.

_Mother, I’ve breached a sterile environment._

The white walls and white floors seemed to stretch for miles in either direction. Katya had forgotten how sad the white looked without students against it.

Mrs. McHale’s door, like all the other doors, was an unremarkable brown. Katya stared into it and tried to reconcile the empty canvas with the image of the imp of an english teacher described by the upperclassmen. No dice. Perhaps her friends were exaggerating their hatred for the woman behind the unassuming door. It would be nice to think the best of people, but she knew she lived in a time when that didn’t happen often. People suck; get with the program.

An eternity later the bell rang and Katya got to her feet before the horde could pull a mufasa on her. The unremarkable door swung open, revealing a short woman with a tight face and copper hair.

 _This could be trouble_ , an alarm flashed in her mind.

However, her body did not have time to trigger a fight or flight response. The older woman flashed Katya a bright smile, taking in her first student of the year. Mrs. McPhee enthusiastically extended her hand for Katya to shake.

“Hi there! I’m Mrs. McPhee! It’s so nice to meet you!” She all but chirped.

Katya snapped out of her thoughts and accepted the gesture. “I’m Katya. It’s nice to meet you, too,” the teen delivered the customary response before Mrs. McPhee ushered her inside.

“Feel free to sit anywhere! I need to run to the copy room and grab a few things for class today. There’s an ice breaker activity on the tables that you can get started on,” she said before ducking out into the hall.

 _Someone’s had their morning coffee_ , Katya quipped, the corners of her mouth turning up in a small smile.

Familiar faces began to fill the chairs at the tables, but Katya had yet to find one she'd spoken more than a sentence to. The presence of her long time crush, Trixie Mattel, in the seat across from her did nothing to quell her growing anxiety, either.

A frantic Mrs. McHale returned with arms full of papers shortly after the end of the passing period. Katya could hear the eyes rolling at the sight of her. Cue the secondhand embarrassment. 

Copies of the syllabus made their way around the room. Katya tried desperately not to wince as her English teacher introduced the “phone spa” where phones would live during class.

It wasn’t hard for Katya to become lost in her own thoughts once again: _Is there going to be a project on the summer reading? Is my copy of All the Light We Cannot See—which I’ve annotated the crap out of—going to be of any use to me at all?_

The blonde was fucked if they were going to have to do an in-depth analysis of the text. The only thing she could remember about it was that the girl, Marie-Or-Something, was blind. And that only stuck with her because of the cackling fit she had on the floor when her mom asked her why she chose the book. And, of course, it was stupid. It was too hilarious that a book with a title about not being able to see the light had a protagonist who was blind, and thus, _literally_ could not see the light.

The thought brought a smile to Katya’s face even now. It was unlikely that Anthony Doerr intended to make an ironic joke about a blind girl, but Katya liked to believe that humor wasn’t dead. Was it terrible? Yes. But come on, she literally couldn’t see the light. Because she was _blind_. Katya snorted at the mental picture that formed and immediately covered her mouth. Scanning the room, Katya determined that she hadn’t drawn any attention to herself. That was, until she caught Trixie Mattel’s unimpressed gaze.

 _Go figure_ , Katya scowled, _I bet she thinks I’m keeping squirrels in the space between my ears._ The teen could feel her cheeks flush beet red in embarrassment. She darted her eyes down to the syllabus, suddenly finding classroom procedures intriguing. 

_Fuck! Shit. She thinks I’m a freak, and she’s going to tell all her friends. Everyone will stare. You’re an embarrassment, a fool a—_

Lady luck chose the opportune time to smile down on Katya, for it was an A/B day, and that meant classes were much shorter. The shrill bell sounded over the loudspeaker and silenced her pleas to be wished out of existence.

* * *

Katya’s second period was library aide. It was the perfect opportunity for her to get ahead on homework when she wasn’t needed. However, she knew full well that she’d spend the hour and a half people watching and reading obscure works.

The library was empty this morning and she could take a moment to compose herself. Mrs. Slay, the librarian, gave her a brief runthrough of her duties and explained library procedures. Afterwards, she released Katya to her own devices.

Katya had never actually spent much time in the school’s library. The harsh, fluorescent lighting did nothing to make the room look cozier. Dozens of tall wooden shelves framed large areas along with some extra shorter shelves of books.

Katya trailed her fingers along dusty spines, hoping that a title would catch her eye. 

* * *

Her third period class, theater, was on the first floor. A lot of people found it weird that a self-identifying technician was still involved in normal theater classes. Katya began her career on the stage, though. Her stage fright and lack of singing and dancing abilities were not about to stop her from growing as a performer. She promised herself that she’d audition for the play this year.

Ginger was waiting for Katya in their usual seats when she entered the black box. The blonde smiled at her best friend, taking a moment to look over the other faces in the space before joining her long-time companion.

Unfortunately, another year had not flushed out the riff-raff. Katya scowled, _new year, same bullshit_. The blonde shared a knowing glance with Ginger.

Rolaskatox—the inseparable trio of Roxy, Alaska, and Detox—remained front and center. Sharon and Jinkx camped out in the back, and Tammy sat awkwardly on her own with Raja and Manila nearby. Pearl and Trixie gossiped to their left.

After Ms. P, the theater teacher for juniors and seniors, passed out the syllabus, they gathered in a circle. Playing stale warm-up games never failed to put the majority of the class in a pissy mood. It was no secret that half of the room hated the other half of the room; times when they were all forced to work together were toxic.

The second activity Ms. P had put on the agenda for that morning was not any better: duet scenes. The oblivious woman thought it would be a fantastic idea to assign partners at random for the scenes. Katya’s heart jumped in her throat when their teacher called Alaska Honard’s name along with hers.

Alaska had long, silky golden hair, soft pink lips, and big doe eyes. She was easily the tallest girl in their grade (and quite possibly in their school). She had legs for days, and they looked stunning under that short green cheer skirt in Katya’s opinion. And most of the student body’s opinion. Alaska might have been the nicest girl on the cheer squad, but Katya was sure that this encounter could still be fatal.

Katya hesitantly approached Alaska, who had yet to stop chatting with Roxy and Detox, and cleared her throat.

“Um, Alaska, I have our scene...If you want to go work on it…” Katya trailed off, digging the toe of her boot into the black floor.

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at her. She could feel the eye roll and once over from tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Instead, she focused on the tight smile the blonde in the middle gave her. Alaska nodded and followed her out of the black box. 

The two girls made their way to the anti-lobby in without a word. Neither of them knew how to break the silence between them.

It was Katya who bit the bullet “Look, Alaska, I know you’re not thrilled about being my partner. But I care about the work I do in this class, and I know you do too. So can we just—”

“I’m sorry about them,” Alaska cuts her off. The confusion and shock is visible on Katya’s face, and Alaska feels the need to further elaborate. “Rotox...they're rotted cunts sometimes. I think you’re a great actress, and I’m actually pretty glad to be working with you,” Alaska confessed . She ducked her head, and a long, golden lock fell into her eyes. Katya had to clutch the fabric at her thighs in order to resist the urge to brush it behind the taller girl’s ear.

“Okay then,” Katya breathed a sigh of relief, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

* * *

Katya could not believe the success she’d had on her scene with Alaska in theater. Maybe cheerleaders—well, certain cheerleaders—weren’t so bad after all. Katya was feeling optimistic as she made her way back up to the third floor for biology. 

_Are all biology classrooms supposed to reek of formaldehyde?_ Katya wrinkled her nose in disgust. There were tables made up of four desks clustered in front of the whiteboard at the front of the room. The back half of the room contained lab tables and equipment. Katya figured they would not be spending the majority of their time in there. Again, not wanting to draw attention to herself, she slipped into an empty desk near the back of the room. Their teacher, Mrs. Yonkin, shuffled around marking students present—to save time, Katya supposed. She finished moments before the tardy bell rang, and the students quieted as she took her place at the front of the room.

Mrs. Yonkin opened her mouth when the door slammed open. The culprit was captain of the cheer team, Violet Chachki, or what Katya swears, must be the devil in high heels. Satan made eye contact with a startled Mrs. Yonkin and lazily flashed her a small slip of paper. Hot pink: Coach Calhoun’s signature color. 

“You must be Violet Chachki!” The friendly woman greeted. “Why don’t you take a seat next to Katya in the back?”

The gentle instruction wasn’t an option for Violet. The only empty seats left were at Katya’s table. Katya felt as though Mrs. Yonkin had just declared it open season on quirky blondes with questionable fashion sense. Dread pooled in her stomach; she was too young to die. 

Similarly, Violet visibly recoiled at the idea of sitting next to some theater clown. Violet’s withering gaze focused on Katya, but she was certain it wasn't her that the fuming brunette was plotting to crucify. Katya pitied whichever of her bimbo cheerleader friends forgot to save her a seat. 

Violet chose the desk across from Katya. The blonde didn't resist the opportunity to take a magnifying glass to the untouchable girl, herself.

Violet chachki was stunning. If looks could kill, the school would be a cemetery by now. She was a dark horse, a vixen, a black widow, the kind of beautiful that hurts you if you get too close. A girl like that did not belong here. Katya watched in awe as Violet’s manicured hand brushed long onyx strands back into place.

Unfortunately, Katya was no Double O Seven, and it didn’t take Violet long to pick up on the attention she was getting. The same painted fingers removed themselves from dark, silky waves and ventured closer to Katya’s face. They snapped suddenly, and Katya almost fell out of her blue plastic chair.

She only had a second to recover when Violet spat venom at her. “Hey, Bozo the Cunt, has the lack of oxygen in your tiny car affected your ability to function, or are you just simple?”

 _“Bozo the Cunt”? That’s new. Mother, I’ve made a name for myself._ Katya brought her eyes up to look at Violet. Her failure to provide a timely response did her no favors. The she-demon’s ruby red lips curled into a snarl. If Katya could feel her legs, she would be running to the nearest place of worship.

“Quit staring at me, freak,” Violet hissed. Katya met violet’s piercing eyes with her own sheepish blue ones.

“I-I uhm...Sorry. You look nice today?” Katya offered with shrugged shoulders. She wouldn’t buy her excuse either.

The brunette rolled her brown eyes, fishing her sparkly red phone from her bag and leaving Katya to pick at her hands.

Mrs. Yonkin saved Katya’s cuticles when she passed out materials for the students to make makeshift nameplates for their desks. Katya was a sucker for crafts. She wasted no time in writing her name in thick, red letters. A large, yellow sickle and hammer ran through the center of the page and black Russian characters accented her work of art. Katya was proud of herself. Capping the black marker, she took a risk and peeked at Violet’s handiwork.

Violet chose a clean and classical look for her own sign. V I O L E T was spelled out in deep purple, looping script.

Katya sighed. It was going to be a long year if the ice queen froze her out completely. At least Katya enjoyed biology.

After everyone was finished with their nametags, Mrs. Yonkin passed out an ice breaker activity designed to help the students get to know everyone at their table. Unfortunately, it was an activity where you had to interview a partner, and Katya’s partner was clearly unwilling.

“I don’t see why we have to talk,” Violet complained. “Trade papers with me so we can fill out our own answers. I’m tired of working with people that are not myself.”

Katya couldn’t help but feel a bit insulted. It wasn’t like she had herpes or something. They didn’t even have to share their entire life stories with each other; a favorite color is as generic as it gets. If the bitch wanted to be difficult, Katya sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

“Look, Princess, I don’t know anything about science other than it’s really good for you," Katya bit back, "But I haven’t done enough crack to melt my brain. Do you honestly think people would believe that _you_ could produce chicken scratch like _this_?” The blonde gestured pointedly to the top of her own page where she had scrawled out her name.

Violet pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Oh and I’m also not bad at science. It was a joke, A bad one,” Katya tried to assure the frustrated girl in front of her. Her words of comfort did little to change her new partner’s mood, though. She tried again, “What’s your favorite color?”

Fortunately, Violet realized that she would—at the very least—have to cooperate with the menial activity. “Violet,” she supplied cooly. 

Katya tried and failed to stifle her laugh. The raven-haired girl looked at her challengingly.

“Tha-that’s a good choice. Very good. I love every color!” Katya stammered as she wrote down Violet’s response. She couldn’t be sure if her partner was filling out her own worksheet, but Katya couldn’t bring herself to care that much. She just wanted this over and done with. Each moment she spent next to the cheerleader made her feel more and more inadequate. Violet was judging her; she felt small enough on her own.

“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” Katya continued.

This one Violet was quick to answer, “Literally anywhere but here.”

Her passive face told Katya she wasn’t going to get a better answer. _I’ll just put down ‘Everywhere. She loves to travel.’_ , she resolved. “I think it would be really cool to go to Russia,” Katya offered. 

Violet’s eyes left her phone screen. They searched the face of the blonde across the table, traveled down to Katya’s communism-inspired name card, and finally met her partner’s ocean blue eyes. “No?” Her face contorted in mock shock. “Let me guess,” she pandered, “If you could have lunch with any famous person dead or alive, you’d choose Putin.”

“Good guess,” Katya shook her head with amusement, “But it’s actually Maria Bamford.” It was obvious that Violet had no idea who Maria Bamford was. However, a quick glance at the clock told her there wasn’t enough time left in the class for her to go off on another tangent. “What about you, Violet?”

“Dita Von Teese. Next,” she urged.

“What are your favorite TV shows?” Katya continued eagerly, excited that Violet was finally being an active participant.

Violet’s response was almost instant, “Forensic Files and Sex and the City.” Everything about the brunette screamed confidence and certainty—something that came through in everything that she did. Katya wished it were that easy for her.

“I really like Game of Thrones, The Heart She Holler, and Storage Wars: Northern Treasures…..It’s the Canadian version,” Katya trailed off. There was an unspoken _‘and?’_ in Violet’s expression, but she couldn’t produce a single reason for why that mattered. But it _had_ mattered. “Anyway...What’s next?” Katya pushed through her embarrassment. “Something I’m good at? Sleeping, I’m good at sleeping. I guess I’m very bendy. Flexible. I can do theater, too…”

“Just put down cheer for me,” Violet ordered without looking up from her own worksheet. The blonde hesitated at the instruction, and Violet let out an impatient huff. “What?” 

Katya was quick to apologize, “Sorry, it’s just that I thought you might say something about fashion.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m-I’ve seen you in the halls before, and you look good. Great. Your clothes. You clearly put a lot of effort into your appearance, and I thou—”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Violet spat. “You don’t know anything about me, so don’t pretend like you do.”

The blonde hurriedly scribbled down the word cheer under question five on her page and grabbed both of their papers. “Right. I’ll just go turn these in,” Katya fled the table without a thought. She had clearly angered Violet. _Didn’t the popular kids like it when you stroked their egos?_ Katya wondered. She hadn’t meant to come off as judgemental. It was obvious that they weren’t on the same level, and hopefully Violet would understand that she hadn’t been trying to judge her. She only wanted to get to know the girl better, but she knew know how stupid she’d been to think that possible. No one like Violet would ever waste time on her. Sighing, she placed the two worksheets in a plastic turn-in bin labeled ‘4th’, and made her way back to her desk. 

* * *

Katya had been disappointed that she had double A Lunch, but the forty minutes were the perfect break before pre-calculus. While it meant she could eat earlier, it also meant that she had no friends to eat with. Ginger and Bianca both had B Lunch. So Katya found herself on the steps of the stairs in the courtyard by the fine arts wing, eating a peanut butter and banana sandwich. There was beauty in the simple things, though, and Katya could appreciate the warmth of the sun and the slight breeze that late morning.

Mrs. Hugh’s room was stuffy. Katya’s funfetti extravaganza was clinging to her yet again, but she couldn’t adjust the fabric too much without disrupting those around her. She wasn’t willing to risk it. Unlike in all her other classes, the blonde always sat front and center in math class. All of the numbers made a mess in her head, and it was easier if she had fewer distractions. No one else felt the same way, though. So when Alaska tumbled in just before the tardy bell, Katya was forced into yet another less than ideal situation.The sunny cheerleader didn’t share that sentiment. Alaska flashed Katya a hundred watt smile and whispered a hello.

Katya didn’t _get_ Alaska. Alaska wasn’t your stereotypical dumb blonde. She struggled in some areas but always kept up with the pack. So she was smarter than she looked? Big deal. What Katya failed to understand was why such a kind, sincere, and _smart_ person would allow herself to be bullied by her peers. The cheer squad clearly didn’t think she had brain cells; Alaska was practically their punching bag from what she’d observed. So why hang around? 

_Miss Honard, you are an enigma_ , Katya assessed.

Katya’s continued curiosity over the duration of Mrs. Hugh’s introductory speech gained her a very important piece of information: if she couldn’t get the lanky blonde out of her head, she was going to have to let her in. And Katya would _not_ be friends with a cheerleader.

* * *

Katya praised Judas for the district employee who put Bianca Del Rio in her history class. She and Bianca were unlikely friends—a high school mascot and a theater kid didn’t really run in the same circles—but made an unstoppable duo. Coach A., their teacher seemed to get a kick out of them too. 

Bianca was an unexpected constant in Katya’s life. The self-proclaimed bitch was Spartacus, the high school mascot, and the two would never have overlapped if not for their shared love/hate relationship with theater. She was a year younger than Katya but that didn’t stop her from providing Katya with the tough love she needed to keep her head screwed on. Keeping her head on straight was out of the question; Bianca did what she could. 

The two girls schlepped over to the far side of the school where the gym was located. Katya, who had made the dumb decision to postpone getting her PE credit for as long, was not looking forward to an entire year of physical activity. Bianca, on the other hand, basically earned herself a double off campus by taking on the role of mascot. And yes, she definitely took pleasure in rubbing the fact in Katya’s face. Sucks to suck. 

The other shit thing about a 7th period gym class was that Katya would be in uncomfortably close proximity to the cheerleaders. It felt wrong—almost like she was breaking a nonexistent restraining order. What sick bastard decided the plebs in “team sports” should be forced to observe the pretty girls in peak physical capacity while they drowned in their own sweat? Katya didn’t know the answer, and you certainly couldn’t hold her accountable if they were suddenly beheaded. 

One locker and a stack of unisex uniforms later, Katya found herself entertaining the musings of Sharon Needles, resident goth girl.

“‘I look spooky, but I’m really nice,’” Sharon had said when they were assigned lockers next to each other. The witchy teen had a thing for reading people—not that an anxious Katya was hard to see through—and took one look at her and saw a kindred spirit. The funfetti dress and clown shoes didn’t scream normal, either. Katya had been uncharacteristically optimistic about befriending Sharon for all of ten minutes before everything went to shit. Phi Phi O’Hara, Sharon’s mortal enemy, also happened to be in the class.

“I’m surprised you took gym, Party City. Wouldn’t want you to melt in your own sweat.” Phi Phi snarked. The playground bully reclined herself against the row of lockers across from them and examined her nails. 

Katya groaned inwardly. Sharon groaned outwardly.

“Fuck off, Phi Phi,” Sharon begged. “Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your own voice? My ears are bleeding and not in a pleasant way.”

“Eat shit and die, Shar Bear,” Phi Phi called over her shoulder as she skipped off to bother some other poor shmucks.

Phi Phi the schoolyard bully reminded Katya of the villain poodle in one of those Open Season movies. Ironically, that poodle was also named Fifi, which was funny because the poodle was also a boy. Fifi the poodle was groomed like a pretty purse dog and had a little blue bow in his hair. Katya was inclined to take Phi Phi O’Hara—who was not incredibly dissimilar to a trophy pet—just as seriously.

“What crawled up her ass and died?” Katya scrunched up her face.

“If you find out, let me know,” Sharon deadpanned. “I need a smoke.” Katya watched in amusement as the locker room’s resident goth chick removed a pack of Marlboro’s and a lighter from her leather jacket. Sharon caught the blonde’s expression and raised her fist in response. “Fight the system,” she stoically decreed. Katya shrugged as if to say “what can you do?” and gestured for Sharon to walk back to the gym with her.

Their gym class had been banished to the wooden bleachers so the cheerleaders could practice for that Friday’s Back-To-School Pep Rally. The two girls tucked themselves into a far corner on the top row, and Sharon finally lit up. 

Coach Rice, who had taken attendance at the beginning of class, had stepped in to assist Coach Calhoun with cheer practice.

Katya and Sharon were fortunate enough to have an unobstructed view of the girls shamelessly throwing themselves at the older man. The majority of the bimbettes were faces she expected: Detox, Roxy, Willam, Courtney, Adore, and Laganja. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for one Violet Chachki to be the leader of the pack. Stratford’s mean queen never sought out attention, let alone fought for it. Miss Chachki was a one of a kind collectible, and the entire student body knew it. You either wanted her or wanted to _be_ her.

Today, it seemed her flavor of choice was Santino Rice.

Katya udged Sharon with her elbow. “What do you make of that?” She consulted the other girl.

Sharon took a moment to complete her assessment. “I bet a girl that tightly wound is a real screamer in bed,” she answered smoothly. Katya had not been expecting any response of the sort and physically toppled over as she was seized by laughter. Katya’s wheezing drew the attention of those nearby, and Sharon had to hold her cigarette in her mouth so she could flip them off with both hands. They could mind their own fucking business.

Katya was still clinging onto Sharon’s thigh when her fit died down. “You bitch!” She shrieked.

“I’m not wrong,” Sharon defended, taking another long drag from her cigarette. “Ten bucks says she’s hitting on him right now.” In her best Valley Girl impression she crooned, “Oh, Coach Rice, can you help me with my form?” 

Katya wasted no time in contributing to the impression. “Can we go to Red Lobster?” The blonde begged in her best Violet-esque bedroom voice. 

The absurdity of the request and the thought of Violet, herself, saying those words caused Sharon to half cackle and half choke on her own smoke. Her throaty laugh bounced off of the walls, and this time, it wasn’t just a few pairs of eyes that turned to them. 

_Uh oh_ , Katya cringed, _busted_.

“Sharon Needles, put that shit out and march your ass on over to Assistant Principal Visage’s office!” Coach Rice demanded. 

Katya facepalmed hard. _What is wrong with you, you stupid whore?_ She groaned. _It’s your fault she’s in deep shit, and she’s never going to speak to you again_. The blonde was about to lose herself in an abyss of despair when Sharon’s voice filled the room again.

“Oh no!” Sharon drawled, “Whatever shall I do?” Katya had brought her head up to witness the spectacle and was met with Sharon’s shit-eating grin.

Katya raised her fist in solidarity, referencing Sharon’s anti-establishment words in the locker room. Her spooky new friend shot her a cheeky wink before saluting her corporate whistleblower and unhurriedly leaving the building.

Katya’s eyes left Sharon’s retreating form just in time to catch Violet glaring at her.

The blonde did her best not to worry. It wasn’t like Violet could have known they were talking about her, right?

* * *

The bell rang at 3:00, and Katya still hadn’t managed to put the captain of the cheer squad out of her mind. She spent her entire 8th period dodging Bianca’s questions and pleading for some all-knowing entity to tell her just where in life she had gone wrong. Definitely new year, same bullshit. Katya had attempted to begin her junior year with a more optimistic attitude, but after a first day for the history books, she was ready to call it quits. 

_You win, Stratford, you win. I am but a shell of a man. Woe is the poor soul who dare enter thee_ , Katya scowled.

The rest of Katya’s will to live vanished when she finally reached her trusty blue Beetle in the junior lot.

“Mother, I am want to commit death,” she muttered.

The cherry red convertible parked next to Katya’s car belonged to none other than Violet Chachki. The bright red exterior was blinding under the afternoon sun, and Katya had to squint to make out faces. A swarm of girls in uniform short skirts and halter tops formed a green and white sea around her only means of escape. Not wanting to engage with Violet for a third time that day, the blonde chose to turn on her heels and pop a squat on the curb. It was going to be a _long_ year.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. She Wants To Dance Like Uma Thurman, But She Can’t

Neil deGrasse Tyson would have good pickup lines—or at least Katya thought he would. Sharon was taking an exceptionally long time to change into her gym uniform, and not wanting to walk back to the gym alone, Katya was forced to wander the landfills of her mind.

“Boo,” Sharon smirked, emerging from around the corner.

Katya rolled her eyes. “Some of us have limited lifespans,” she tutted. “How long does it take to put on unisex activewear?”

“Fuck off,” Sharon laughed. “I had to take my face off. As much as I enjoy an irritated Phi Phi, I’m too hungover to hear about my ‘cakey Ben Nye’. Clown white, of course. It’s a real pain in the ass to find foundation, you know?” Katya’s head whipped back as she cackled, and Sharon was quick to clamp a hand over the blonde’s mouth. The abruptness of the action shocked Katya into silence. “What part of ‘hungover’ did you not understand, Zamo?” She snapped. 

Katya’s sheepish smile was hidden underneath Sharon’s cold, clammy hand. In a moment of poor judgement, Katya licked the offending palm. “Tastes like soap,” she stuck out her tongue. The spooky teen pulled away in disgust. Sharon was about to retaliate when the blonde fell to her knees. “There is no need to spite me, Mistress of Darkness, for I am currently paying for my actions with the acrid taste of ‘Generic Brand’.”

Sharon wiped her palm on her shorts. “Get up, pussyfart,” she instructed. “It’s too early in the year—even for me—to become Coach Rice’s sacrificial lamb.” Katya did as she was told, and the two hastily descended the stairs that lead to the gym.

Utter chaos had taken over the gym. Coach Rice was nowhere to be found, so Katya and Sharon joined their classmates on the bleachers and watched the madness unfold. A group of cheerleaders in green and white skirts and halter tops practiced stunts across a series of large, green mats. The Back to School Pep Rally was due to begin in less than half an hour, and the throbbing vein on Coach Calhoun’s forehead told Katya everything she needed to know.

In the center of the floor stood a red-faced Violet Chachki. Even when raising the fires of Hell, she looked immaculate. Her uniform was pristine (likely freshly laundered), and not a hair in her high ponytail was out of place. The form-fitting material hugged her body in all the right places, and if Katya didn’t know whose head was attached to it, Katya’s mouth might’ve watered.

Violet towered over the frightened Junior Varsity girl, reducing her to a sniveling mess. Ouch.

Bianca, who was watching the drama unfold from the other side of the gym, finally spotted her friend through the forest of cheerleaders. She snuck her way over to Katya and plunked down next to her.

“She’s been like this all day,” Bianca informed them. She pursed her lips, “It’s nothing new, really. Chachki can’t get it through her thick skull that we can’t all be as perfect as her. Their routine is sloppy and the stunts aren’t clean.”

“Bummer,” Sharon quipped.

Katya frowned. “But that’s not her fault, right?” She turned to Bianca, “Couch Calhoun can’t really blame her.”

Her friend shot her a pitying look. “You’ve clearly never met Coach Calhoun,” Bianca said, standing up and excusing herself to go put the Spartacus the Spartan costume on.

Katya frowned, _Can one girl really be expected to carry the weight of both squads?_ Violet Chachki was by no means her favorite person, but the blonde could still recognize an unfair situation. She returned her attention to the mats where Alyssa and Coco tried and failed to perform a routine lift. 

“That was the most offensive thing I’ve seen in twenty years of coaching!” Coach Calhoun Bellowed. “You’re pathetic! All of you! You’ve made me want to stab myself, congratulations! Now get your sorry asses cleaned up because my girls are _not_ ugly!”

Even Sharon flinched at the severity. The two shared a nervous glance. Pep Rallies were usually optional, but since their 7th period was in the place where the pep rally would be held, they didn’t have much of a choice. It was going to be painful to watch.

The cheerleaders weren’t the only issue with the pep rally, either. Coach Rice had been forced to send three members of the football team to Principal Charles’ office due to a locker room jockstrap incident. The man re-entered the gym just before the pep-rally looking rather disheveled. He stormed into the coaches office and slammed the door behind him. School spirit, am I right?

“You sticking around for this shitshow?” Sharon asked Katya. “I need a smoke.”

The blonde took a moment before shaking her head. "Why try new things when you can try nothing?” Sharon gave her an exasperated look. “Stay and watch the show with me?” She begged.

With a dramatic sigh, her friend caved. “Fine, but you owe me one, Zamo,” Sharon grumbled.

Despite all of her complaining, Katya knew that Sharon wasn’t upset about sticking around for the circus. She’d probably get a kick out of the mess to come. Katya, however, found herself compelled to remain on the bleachers by different forces. There was something about the gruesome and horrific that made you want to look when you knew you shouldn’t. Katya would certainly regret it later.

The pep rally commenced with a speech from Principal Charles: school spirit and all that crap. The football players paraded in after, pumped for their game that evening. Next, the Spartanaires performed a lackluster, borderline raunchy dance in their usual out-of-sync fashion. Finally, it was the cheerleaders’ turn.

Fallout Boy’s Uma Thurman was an appropriate cheer remix for the scene unfolding in front of them. She wants to dance like Uma Thurman _but she can’t_. Katya grimaced as all of the girls jumped into a double hook at slightly different times than each other. She scanned the rows for familiar faces, finding Alaska first. Her smile looked more like a grimace as she jumped into a hurdler. The clump peeled off into two groups and proceded to butcher an axel turn canon into a drop. Alyssa and Coco were clearly competing for the best leg height in the toe touches that followed. A series of back handsprings, cartwheels, and walkovers later, Katya finally spotted Violet front and center. She was lifted into a scorpion hold cradle for the conclusion of the routine. 

_Is there anything she can’t do?_ Katya wondered. 

The raven-haired cheerleader remained in the air for a glorious second before she began to wobble. Immediately, the blonde knew something was off: Courtney and Willam kept shifting their grip. Katya watched in horror as Violet plummeted towards the ground moments later. Roxy, who was supposed to be her back spot, stumbled backwards to avoid being crushed, and the cheerleader hit the mat with a loud thud.

Katya couldn’t breathe. It was impossible to tell if Violet landed on her back, her head, or her ass. Her fellow cheerleaders continued to hold their positions, knowing full well that they’d be flayed by Coach Calhoun for breaking formation. Suddenly, there was movement, and the cheer captain pushed her way through Willam, Courtney, and Roxy. Her face was flushed and her high ponytail had seen better days. Violet raised her arms in a V shape and gave her head a sharp nod, concluding the routine.

The other fliers dismounted and the relatively unphased squad began to roll up the mats. Violet slipped away in the crowd of exiting students.

 _Is no one going to make sure she’s okay?_ Katya wondered. She didn’t notice anyone chasing after Violet, but Katya had been wrong many times before. Katya poked Sharon. “Did anyone go after Violet?” She asked

“Don’t think so,” Sharon commented. “Betcha she went home like the rest of the bimbettes are going to Thanks for the good time, Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Sharon hopped down from the bleachers and slunk off to the locker room, leaving Katya to find Bianca.

Bianca exited the mascot’s private dressing room just as Katya made to open the door.

“Just the assclown I was looking for!” Bianca exclaimed, “There’s a back to school party at Alaska’s tonight. She wanted me to invite you. Something about it coming from a non threatening face. Gotta run, bitch! I have dogs to put through college. Just remember that I refuse to associate with losers!” Bianca sprinted off in the direction of the junior lot. 

_Don’t be a loser. Got it_ . Katya made a mental note. She was both over the moon and wholly mortified that Alaska invited her—Katya, “Bozo the Cunt”, your average run-of-the-mill Russian bisexual transvestite hooker—to her party. Katya’s skin felt warm and tingly, and it was in a good way for once! _Suck it, Susan, I am putting pants on tonight_ , she grinned. 

The blonde practically skipped back to the locker room to collect her things. At the base of the stairs to the girls’ facilities, she stumbled into a cloud of cigarette smoke. “Sharon Needles, you are one _rotten_ girl,” Katya tutted. Sharon was perched on the third step with a cigarette in hand. 

“The most sickening ghoul you know,” she affirmed. “Cancer sticks wait for no woman, babe. Pop a squat?” Her friend offered her a toothy smile. 

“I’m all for soaking up your secondhand smoke like a sponge, but I only have a few hours before the ball to turn myself into a biological woman,” Katya apologized with a pout.

Sharon nodded, “Suit yourself, Zamo. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

“The Harris County Morgue!” Katya bounded up the stairs two at a time. High school was shit as a whole, but she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of making two new friends in one week.

In the locker room, Katya peeled off her gym clothes. She was slipping into her custard yellow mom jeans when she heard a yelp from the bathroom area. Because it was a day for stupid decisions, Katya zipped up her pants and set out to investigate. She padded across the cold concrete in her bright blue rubber duckie socks. The bathroom area was made separate by the abrupt switch to peppery tiled floor. There was a series of exposed sinks, and bathroom and shower stalls were on the left and right of the sinks, respectively, and separated from the rest of the locker room by brick walls.

When Katya turned the corner, she was brought face to face—well, face to back—with a half-naked Violet Chachki. The cheerleader was examining a scrape on her forearm.

Katya felt a lot like she’d pressed that ‘I’m Feeling Lucky’ button on Google in that moment. She hadn’t known what she was going to find in the bathroom, nor had she developed any expectations for the result. She had said ‘sure, why not?’ and was presented with something (a surprising something) that she now had no idea what to do with. 

_Thanks, I guess?_ _Fuck._ Katya grimaced. 

Violet’s quick recovery on the floor had masked the true damage done by the fall. There were claw marks on her sides and down her back. _Either she fell on someone or her bases tried to catch her_ , Katya deduced. A small first aid kit was perched on the side of the sink. The blonde decided to dig her hole even deeper.

“Violet?” She called softly. The last thing she wanted to do was startle a wild animal. Violet’s head whipped around, and Katya found her ocean blue eyes connecting with piercing brown ones yet again.

“What?” Violet snapped. Her words were merely a gut reaction to being disturbed; it took her a moment to process that it was her cretinous lab partner doing said disturbing.

Katya froze. “I-um...are you...you know? Okay?” She stammered. “I saw the fall, a-and then you got up, so I thought maybe...but then you just now did the, and I heard you. Now, here we are, and your back lo—”

“It’s none of your fucking business!” Violet interrupted. The cheerleader crossed her arms over her sports-bra-clad chest. This was _not_ good.

She tried again, “Are you sure you don’t want help?” Katya was no Dr. Ken Jeong, but she could still tell that it was going to be a real pain in the ass for Violet to dress the scratches on her back by herself. The raven-haired girl hissed. Literally.

“I get it. I’m a bitch. But in no way should that discourage you from believing the goddamn words that come out of my mouth. I don’t _need_ your help. I don’t _want_ your help,” Violet’s voice was cold and laced with venom. Katya turned tail and ran back to her locker. She didn’t dare look back.

Katya leaned back against the cool, green metal of her locker and sank down to the floor. _Fuck. Just, fuck. That’s what you do, Katya you fuck everything up_ . She dug her face into her knees. _You can’t show your face in biology now. She’ll make your life a living hell. Is that what you want, Katya? Do you want to run away? Do you want to be pathetic?_ The blonde’s breaths were labored and heavy. Her wet palms grasped for purchase on the fabric of her jeans. Katya needed to calm down. This couldn’t happen here. She frantically grabbed for her ‘birds aren’t real’ shirt and pulled it over her head. Next, shoes. It was difficult with her shaking hands, but she managed to lace up her high tops. Katya was almost out the door when one of her worst nightmares came true.

“Shit!” Violet’s voice echoed through the room. Katya pinched the bridge of her nose. Why did it always have to be her? She couldn’t just leave Violet—even if she _was_ a raging cunt.

 _I'm not gonna panic, because I don't do that anymore_ , the blonde steeled herself. She marched with purpose back to the sinks and put on her sternest face.

“Look, Chachki, I’m going to need you to put your feelings towards me aside for right now,” Katya began. Violet once again whipped around, still unamused. “I’m going to help you whether you like it or not. This might come as a bit of a shocker, but I don’t get off on watching you struggle. I don’t want a leg up. I don’t want to be friends. But if you don’t cover some of those nastier ones up and irritate the hell out of your skin, it’s sure as hell going to be my problem when you’re extra rotten in class.” Neither of the two girls were expecting _that_ to come out of Katya’s mouth. There was no turning back now. 

The blonde approached the sink, and with all the courage she could muster, placed her hands on Violet’s shoulders and gently turned her around. Her patient tensed under her touch. “Sorry,” Katya apologized, “I tend to forget they’re usually cold.” The first aid kit on the sink contained a small tube of neosporin and some gauze. She quickly washed her hands before picking up the tube from where Violet had abandoned it. It looked like the girl’s sides were taken care of, so she moved on to her back. 

Violet’s skin was smooth but firm under her fingertips. Katya gently traced the red marks until each one was taken care of. She then began to unroll the long spool of gauze just enough to give Violet one of the loose ends to hold at her hip bone. Katya skillfully guided the roll around the girl’s body until there was only a bit left to tuck into a fold. Without making eye contact with the cheerleader, she washed her hands once more and returned to her bag. If anyone saw Katya sprint to her car that afternoon, they never said a word.

Ironically, Katya felt like she could finally breathe in her stuffy car. She was too scatterbrained to remember to put up her sun visor in the mornings and was doomed to regret it later. But the heat didn’t matter now. Katya had given orders to Violet Chachki—orders the cheerleader had obeyed. Violet Chachki. Violet _fucking_ Chachki. 

_Oh shit! You manhandled God’s gift to this world! What were you thinking?_ Katya plugged her phone in and put on some tunes to drown out the potential consequences. Elton John couldn’t solve her problems, but he could make the drive home a little less shitty

* * *

_  
What do normal people wear? What’s ‘in’ with the youths?_ Katya furrowed her brow. She grew out of following trends in middle school. The clothes weren’t _her_ , and they didn’t magically assimilate her into a friend group either. So Katya was no manic pixie dream girl, more of a manic sexy carny And that was okay...most of the time. There would be a wide variety of teens at the party—Alaska ran in many different circles—but all of them had eyes, and Katya wasn’t about to make Alaska question her judgement over unironically worn Hawaiian print. She’d have to pass for artistically different. Dresses were risky, so Katya opted for a pair of skintight black denim shorts and a well-worn Warner Brothers Studios shirt. A good french tuck and a statement jacket were just enough to polish off her shabby-chic ensemble. It would have to be good enough. 

Katya’s freshly washed hair had dried in loose waves that framed her face beautifully. Two things she refused to guilt herself into were shaving her legs and putting on makeup, and she wore her bangs down to hide the hairline she was so self-conscious about. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone. Katya had given up on that a long, long time ago. She glanced at the clock. It was only a few minutes past 6:00. Living in a constant state of perpetual anxiety was a real bitch.

Katya sighed, _Wheel of Fortune and Diet Coke it is_. Her parents were at the neighborhood’s annual Back to School Barbecue, so she had the entire house to herself. She hoped there would be a familiar face or two—or at the very least caffeine—at Alaska’s house.

* * *

Katya could hear the music coming from the inside of Alaska’s house through her massive front door. It was a hot and humid evening, yet Katya chose to linger in the yard. She wasn’t the first one there, and she wouldn’t be the last one, either; there was just something about crossing the solid oak barrier that made her presence...pressing. Awkward, even.

 _Alaska wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you to be here_ , Katya reminded herself. She knew this was true—Alaska Honard was an absolute sweetheart—but her paranoia got the best of her. She pulled out her phone and sent a message to ‘Bianca del Realest’:

_I’m outside. Walk me in? I don’t wanna know if pigs’ blood comes out of denim._

Her phone vibrated seconds later with a response from Bianca:

_Pussy._

Soon, the door opened, revealing a smug Bianca del Rio. Katya grinned, “Yes, I do have a pussy, mama, and I’m serving fish all night.”

Bianca howled, “I don’t put things in me if I don’t know where they’ve been, and you’re a filthy whore.”

“You rotted cunt! That was a rash, not a herpes sore!” Katya protested. 

“Just get your ass in here, Zamo, before the neighbors call the police to report a solicitor on the premises,” Bianca stepped aside so Katya could enter.

The first thing she saw was an ornately framed oil painting of Alaska and her family. It had to be _at least_ her height. “Holy mother of pearl…” Katya gaped.

“Mother of Alaska, actually. Father and sister, too,” Bianca corrected. Katya gave her a shove. “What? I do this out of love, honey.” The blonde rolled her eyes. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Bianca grabbed hold of Katya’s arm and steered her towards the kitchen. 

Alaska’s kitchen—which was a literal gourmet kitchen—was relatively empty save for an entire island of snacks and several coolers with drinks. She could still feel the thrum of the bass in her teeth, but the walls muffled the music’s full volume. What Katya found most shocking was actually _who_ was in the kitchen. Trixie Mattel was leaning against the sink in a pair of light wash jeans and a flowing pink top.

 _Wow_ , Katya’s eyes went wide. She was in the same room as Trixie Mattel, about to be introduced by their apparently mutual friend, and she desperately needed to be able to pull herself together.

“Oh, honey, send in the _clowns_!” Trixie exclaimed, noticing Bianca’s return.

“I prefer to be called an erotic clown,” Bianca shot back. Katya snorted. “This is the creature I was telling you about.” Bianca gave Katya a small shove forward. 

“Hi, I’m the chemical burn from the spiral perm, Trixie Mattel,” Trixie introduced herself extending a well-manicured hand. “I sit across from you in English, but we’ve never really talked.”

“Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova. But your dad just calls me Katya,” Katya winked and took Trixie’s hand, gently kissing her knuckles. Inside her head, Katya was screaming, _Fuuuuuuuck_. However, Trixie’s smile only grew. The life-sized Barbie doubled over with laughter. 

Trixie turned to Bianca, “I’ll keep her!” Katya scrunched up her nose. She didn’t realize she was for sale.

“Just make sure to walk her often. She’s not house trained,” Bianca warned.

Katya wasn’t given the chance to retort because the door that connected the main room to the backyard flew open, and all three girls reached to cover their ears as Travis Scott’s voice grew three times as loud. An out-of-breath Jinkx Monsoon stood in the doorway, and her mouth began to move.

“What?” Bianca shouted over Sicko Mode.

Jinkx came further into the kitchen and screamed, “I said the hotshots just pulled up! If you don’t wanna get trampled, we should probab—” 

“Bottoms up, bitches!” Willam shouted from somewhere in the hall. A cacophony of voices seemed to flood the space all at once, and then the kitchen was swarmed with all of the juniors on the cheer squad and football team. Hands and bodies were everywhere. Katya, standing at 5’1”, was swept away in the sea of future frat boys. Thankfully, the kitchen was only a stop on their route, and once the kitchen had been successfully raided, the four girls could get their bearings. 

Jinkx straightened her dress. “Leave. I was going to say leave,” she finished her earlier thought and slumped against the kitchen island. “The real party’s out back. Now with added kegs.”

“Now, this I gotta see,” Bianca chuckled, “You in?” Katya shrugged and followed Bianca and Trixie past the horndogs sucking face in the living room and into Alaska’s massive backyard. She didn’t know what she’d gotten herself into, and she didn’t see it getting any better.

The glass doors let out onto a patio with a cabana and firepit. Stone steps led down to yet another seating area and a resort-style pool filled with floats, fountaints, and colored lights. There must’ve been at least a hundred people outside. She’d never seen so much illicit activity in one place. _What was the word? Collusion? Collusion. Collusion vibes but not in a good way, mama. We’re all going to hell_ , Katya swallowed thickly. The blonde was overwhelmed by the sweaty bodies, loud music, and flashing lights. Was this what a rave was like? The kegs by the pool were a happening place, and she planned to avoid them as much as possible. 

When she looked to her right, she noticed Bianca had slipped away unnoticed, leaving her completely and utterly alone with one Trixie Mattel. Fuck. _Again_.

“Come get a drink with me!” Trixie insisted. She might not have been entirely comfortable alone with her crush, but tagging along was a significantly better option than hiding in a corner. The two pushed their way towards the booze. Trixie filled a red solo cup for Katya before grabbing one for herself and maneuvering them over to the poolside loveseat. 

Katya’s drink felt awkward clutched in her hands. She knew that most highschoolers had experience with alcohol, but it was different watching her peers getting trashed. _What’s the point?_ Katya wondered. 

“That’s gonna get warm, you know?” Trixie snapped Katya out of her thoughts.

Katya gave her a sheepish smile, “I don’t really drink. Like at all. I just took it so you didn’t think I was lame.”

“Oh, honey,” Trixie began softly, “I would never judge you for something like that. Here, let me take that.” She made a grab for Katya’s cup, but Katya pulled it away.

“One sec!” Katya stuck two fingers of her free hand right into her beer and pulled them out. She saw the confusion on Trixie’s face and gave her a mischievous look. Katya took her beer fingers and wiped the alcohol across the pulse points on her neck. Playing it safe, she repeated the action until all the places she’d usual spray with perfume were sticky with beer. She was sure she smelled like a distillery. Perfect. Once again, Trixie made a grab for the cub, but another hand beat her to it. Alaska Honard in all her glory snatched it from Katya and drained its contents. 

“Thanksss, Kati,” Alaska slurred. “Jus’ needed a lil’ liquid courage before I go on.” She swooped down to give Katya a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Alaska was _sloshed_. Her makeup was smudged she was swaying on her feet, and she smelled worse than Katya, who had just taken a bath in her beer.

“Go on what, Alaska?” Needless to say, Katya was a bit concerned. Because the two had done most of the work for their partner scene the previous class, Alaska and Katya were able to spend the day’s 3rd period chatting away. The demure girl from earlier was nowhere to be found. She was beginning to wonder if her friend had even processed her question when Alaska finally responded.

“‘M gonna be a star, Kati,” Alaska giggled. “Britney, bitch!” She then proceeded to fist up the fabric at the bottom of her dress and try to pull her black bodycon sequin gown up and over her body. Katya could only watch as she writhed around and made pitiful whining noises in her attempt to undress. “Off!” Alaska pouted, giving Katya her best puppy dog eyes.

Katya shared a look with Trixie before standing up and carefully spinning the blonde around. Her small hands were perfect for pulling down tiny zippers, and the dress slid down Alaska’s lithe body and pooled at her feet. Katya’s throat went dry.

Underneath her dress, Alaska wore a lacy, black strapless bra and a matching set of panties. Katya could _not_ handle it. She didn’t mean to stare, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. _Soft, pale, flawless_ , Katya took in the beauty in front of her. Talk about body-ody-ody. Alaska was toned with the supple legs of a dancer—unfortunately, she lacked a dancer’s poise. Katya’s aneurism was cut short when the cheerleader stumbled trying to get out of the offending garment.

“Geez, Alaska,” Katya exclaimed, “Would you be more careful?”

“I may not be graceful…” Alaska trailed off, beginning to sway on her feet.

“I need my Lasky!” Detox shouted from the edge of the pool. Alaska visibly perked at her nickname and gave Katya a sloppy goodbye kiss on the cheek before teetering off towards Detox and Roy.

 _What the fuck?_ Katya raised her eyebrows. She turned to Trixie in search of an answer as to what just happened, but all the blonde had to offer was a shrug. Katya looked back to Rolaskatox and noticed a few pertinent details she’d missed in her first glance: Roxy and Detox were also in their skivvies, three chairs were now in a row on the bridge that separated the two halves of the pool, and the music had stopped.

Katya tried to do the math in her head: _liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar = ????_ She had to be missing something. _“‘I’m gonna be a star,’”_ _Alaska had said...Fame = liquid courage + 3 scantily clad girls x 1 chair - Kendrick Lamar_. Katya’s brows knit together. _Some kind of performance?_ And then it hit her. _“‘Britney, bitch,’”...They’re performing a Britney Spears number practically naked. Obviously the ideal way to spend a Friday night_. Katya could think of no other explanation for the weird happenings of the last few minutes, but the answer she’d arrived at wasn’t any less of an acid trip.

The three girls took their places behind the chairs, and Roxy, who had at some point manifested a microphone, gave pearl a thumbs up.

“Where my party people at?” Roxy shouted into the microphone. Praise Putin for Pearl because the feedback on the mic might have made their ears bleed. The crowd around the pool hooted and hollered. _Yuck_ , Katya gagged on the high school movie realness. “We’ve got a special treat for you tonight! Our little Lasky here,” Roxy pushed Alaska forward, “Didn’t think that she was going to make the varsity cheer team.” Alaska flushed at her friends divulgence and squirmed in her grip. Naturally, Roxy paid no attention to her friend’s discomfort, “So Toxy and I, we made a bet: if Lasky didn’t make varsity we’d have a Golden Girls marathon, but if she _did_ …she’d have to show off her sweet moves at the Back-to-School Bash!”

“Hit it, Pearl!” Detox shouted. Roxy tossed the microphone to someone near the end of the walk, and the three girls took their places by their chairs. Alaska was clearly less thrilled about the performance than she was when she had been talking to Katya minutes ago. Liquid courage? No dice. The instrumental intro into Britney Spears’ “Toxic” began to play from the outdoor speakers, and Alaska’s gyrated her hips mechanically to the beat. 

_Baby, can't you see_

_I'm calling_

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

_It's dangerous, I'm falling_

Katya was dumbfounded. Mouth agape, she wondered, _Does this shit happen at all high school parties? Mother, I swear I’m sober_ . She hadn’t had anything to drink, so she couldn’t have been drugged or anything crazy like that. This was, in fact, happening. And Katya had thought _she_ was fucking mental. A glance to her side told her that she wasn’t the only one questioning her sanity; Trixie’s eyes were bulging out of their sockets.

_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit, Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous, I'm lovin’ it_

_Dangerous_. There was something sinister about the atmospheric red that bathed the trio and spilled into the audience. Her hands began to tremble. _Brenda, not now_ , she willed herself to calm down. 

_Too high_

_Can't come down_

_Losin' my head, spinnin' 'round and 'round_

_Do you feel me now?_

It wasn’t just her shaking, though. Alaska’s body was vibrating with tension—not ‘loving it’. Her sisters in scandal moved a lot smoother than she did, and she was concentrating hard on keeping herself from falling off of her chair. _How much “‘liquid courage’” did this bitch have?_ The trio had gotten up on their chairs at the beginning of the chorus and were doing what looked like Christina Aguilera choreography circa Genie in a Bottle. Katya wouldn’t be surprised if Rotox had actually gotten the wrong blonde when choreographing. Katya frowned, _Alaska, please don’t crack your head open_. 

_With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_And I love what you do_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

She regained her breath when the chair acrobatics were finally over. The dance routine had evolved into what could probably qualify as softcore porn. Roxy, Alaska, and Detox were writhing on the platform in an obscene manner. Katya thought they looked like cats in heat. Alcoholic cats in heat. Which was actually quite a shame because real alcoholic cats in heat were something that Katya would _totally_ like to see.

_It's getting late to give you up_

_I took a sip from my devil’s cup_

_Slowly, it's taking over me_

_Too high, can't come down_

_It's in the air and it's all around_

_Can you feel me now?_

_Britney Spears you are a cruel bitch_ , Katya chewed her lower lip. She was trying her hardest _not_ to feel anything.

_With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic, I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_And I love what you do_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

If she weren’t so put off by the course the night had taken and concerned for her friend, she might have been more than a little turned on. There was no denying that Alaska was attractive—even as she flopped about like a fish on a marble platter—but her mother raised her right. We do _not_ objectify women, and we definitely do not allow others to take advantage of inebriated ones.

_Taste of your lips, I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic, I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic, I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

Katya had to admit she was impressed. There really was no better way to draw attention to yourself than repeatedly slamming your pussy into the makeshift stage. It certainly seemed to be working now; she might just have to try it sometime.

_Intoxicate me now_

_With your lovin' now_

_I think I'm ready now_

_I think I'm ready now_

_Intoxicate me now_

_With your lovin' now_

_I think I'm ready now_

Roxy, Alaska, and Detox all struck their final poses. Katya could see their chests heaving wildly as they held for the raucous applause of the party guests standing poolside. It was certainly strange, but she couldn’t knock their performance. Kids would be kids, right? She was about to chalk it all up to a bit of harmless fun, after all, when tweedle dumb and tweedle dumber broke formation and pushed Alaska straight off of the platform. Suddenly, the tall blonde was in the water, limbs thrashing about in response to the sudden change in environment. 

“Pool party!” Willam shouted, stripping off her own dress. Leave it to Willam to make a splash. _Literally_. For some reason the most inebriated of the guests decided that it was a fantastic idea to accidentally drown themselves instead of their sorrows. Soon, the pool was full of bodies and she could no longer keep track of her friend.

Alaska finally scampered to the steps with the stability of a newborn fawn. She all but fell out of the pool and took half of the water with her. Alaska’s mascara streaked down her cheeks, and her hair hung limp and matted. Roxy and Detox were nowhere to be found—either to help her clean up or to read her for filth. Coco Montrese and her longtime frenemy Miss Alyssa Edwards, however, were more than happy to fill in.

 _They sound like those brain dead hyenas from The Lion King_ , Katya snickered to herself. _Maybe not that lady one, though. That bitch was fierce._

Alaska coughed up a mouthful of water right at their feet. “Hey, Coco,” She began, “Your makeup is terrible.” Coco wasn’t laughing anymore. Point Alaska.

“Have you seen yourself, mama?” Coco fired back, The blonde rolled her eyes and snatched the drink in Coco’s hand. Alaska tossed it back all in one go. 

“Thanks,” Alaska drawled, tossing the empty cup back and wrapping herself in the first available towel. 

Katya turned to Trixie with a question on her lips. “Does this happen often?” She asked. Trixie gave a low whistle. 

“Pearl has dragged me to a lot of weird shit, but I think this might just be a first,” Trixie answered with gusto. She checked her watch, “And it’s not even 10:00! The night is still young, honey!”

 _Right_ , Katya thought, _the night is still young. Just great._

Trixie soon ditched Katya for Pearl—something about the stupid pumpkin carriage coming to steal her friend after midnight—and Katya hadn’t known Trixie long enough to reasonably protest the abandonment. She hoped Bianca was somewhere inside the house. 

There were still people in the living room, but it looked like the horny gremlins from earlier had finally gotten a room. Literally. Unfortunately, the cheerleaders that had taken their place were not much better. Head bitch Violet Chachki had her legs draped over one of the arms of a stately armchair in a carefree yet superior manner. Why anyone would want to be queen of the hot messes? Katya couldn’t tell you. But apparently power—or at least the perception of power—gave one Violet Chachki a raging hard on. _Gag._

Bianca wasn’t in the room, but the blonde was determined to see her valiant quest through. Hopefully, she’d stumble upon a nunnery with some sexy ladies along the way. Sneaking past the wicked bitch of the west and her flying monkeys, she regrouped in the kitchen. Katya went down her mental checklist: _Keys? Check. Assorted limbs? Check. Clothes? Check. Inhibitions? Check. Virtue? Debauched. Sanity? Remaining hopefully optimistic. Bianca? Still M.I.A._ The kitchen was empty due to the commotion happening poolside. Chips crunched under the soles of Katya’s sneakers. That was another reason she didn’t enjoy being out in the general public for extended periods of time: bitches be nasty.

The second floor was significantly cleaner than the first. An entire floor of the Honards’ house was dedicated to entertainment. Katya knew that Alaska had an older sister, Nebraska, but she couldn’t fathom why any child—or two children for that matter—needed an entire floor to play. _How could the rooms not feel so...empty?_ Katya wondered, shuddering involuntarily. The blonde couldn’t picture Alaska spending much time up here now. She felt as though she was looking at an abandoned playground and couldn’t help but think it made Alaska sad, too. 

After a few moments, it became clear to Katya that Bianca wasn’t there, but she continued to linger on the landing. Her blue eyes were drawn to the set of stairs that would take her to the third floor. It was an idea for the pantheon of bad ideas; she was tempted nonetheless. Katya could hear her grandfather’s words in her head: _‘Curiosity killed the kitty, лисичка,’_ What her Deda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. _Besides, I’m not that kind of pussy, am I?_ She justified.

Katya crept up to the dark third story of the house with the innocence of an intruder—she’d plead the fifth if necessary. The second door down from the landing was ominously open. Honestly, there may as well have been a big red arrow pointing towards the room because Katya’s feet were already carrying her towards it. Darkness engulfed the room, itself, save for a rectangle of warm light. 

“Jinkxy, is that you?” Alaska groaned, presumably from the same direction as the light. “Jus’ leave the dress on the bed. Save the lecture for the morning.”

Katya cleared her throat, “Alaska? It’s Katya. Can I come in?” She received a grunt in response. The blonde followed the sound into what turned out to be Alaska’s master bathroom. Her friend was curled up against her marble tub with a beach towel wrapped around her. 

“How was I, Kati?" Alaska drawled. 

Katya took a seat in front of her and pulled her legs to her chest. She thought for a moment before speaking, “80% sexy, 20% disgusting...like me.” Alaska whined. “Why are you still in your wet clothes?” She asked. Her friend shrugged. _Right_ , Katya sighed. Alaska was half asleep; this wasn’t going to be a one woman job. Thankfully, Jinkx appeared moments later with her heels in one hand and Alaska’s little black dress in the other. Katya raised her hands in surrender. “I swear she was like this when I found her,” she blurted. 

“This isn’t even the worst of it,” Jinx spoke candidly. She tossed her shoes onto the floor and pulled up her long, red hair. “I’ll wrangle the monkey if you go and find her some dry underwear and something to wear to bed.” Jinkx’s tone left no room for questioning. 

_Mother, I never thought I’d be a panty snatcher, much less an invited one_ , Katya made a face. Alaska’s dressers were easy to find, and she felt undeniably dirty as she began her game of panty roulette. Pulling open the first drawer, Katya sprang back, ready to strike. Assorted pajamas were hardly a foe, and she vanquished them swiftly. Rebel athleticwear laid in wait behind drawer number two. They, too, were no match for her feet of fury, Katya kicked the drawer shut with a battle cry. 

“Katya, what the hell are you doing out there?” Jinkx called.

Katya had the dignity to look sheepish. “Nothing!” She shouted back. “Be there in a second!” The underwear turned out to be in the next drawer down. She thrust a hand inside without looking and tightened her grip on the first piece of fabric her hand found. Her feeling of triumph only lasted the few seconds it took for her to realize what she’d managed to retrieve: a lacy black teddy. Katya dropped the offending garment as if she’d been burned. _I am going to hell_ , she shook her head, _Straight to hell. I will not pass go, nor will I collect $100…Deuces never loses, right?_ The scarlet thong she fished out next begged to differ. Her face was almost as red as the fabric, itself, when she flung it across the room. Fortunately, the third time _was_ the charm. The pastel pink boyshorts seemed like a more appropriate item to put on a drunk girl, so Katya returned to the bathroom to present her nightwear bounty to Jinkx.

The motherly redhead, unsurprisingly, was not impressed. Jinkx arched a brow expectantly.

“You see,” Katya began, “I wasn’t comfortable—I didn’t um feel right digging through her things without, you know, her permission?” She swallowed thickly. “So I thought maybe it would be less creepy if I just reached in and grabbed the first thing I touched. Well, you see, Alaska’s got such a wide range of tastes, and it-uh...It took a hot second to find something _appropriate_...for the...occasion?” She was expecting to find disgust when she raised her eyes to meet Jinkx’s, but the redhead cackled loudly instead.

“Lemme guess, you saw something you didn’t want to see?” Jinkx chortled. Katya managed a weak nod. “I’m sorry, doll, I forget that not everyone is as acquainted with Miss Honard’s unmentionables as little ol’ me.”

 _Not everyone is as acquain—Oh!_ Blue eyes threatened to burst from their sockets as Katya processed her words. 

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, not like _that_ ,” Jinkx exclaimed, reading the thoughts reflected on Katya’s face. “Lasky and I did community theater together. I’ve known her since the first grade. Drunk proof her nightstand for me? I’ll dress blondie over here.”

“Does this happen often?” Katya asked Jinkx after Alaska’s door was closed. The incapacitated cheerleader was finally sound asleep in her bed, and the two girls didn’t think she’d be up anytime soon.

Jinkx sighed sadly, “It didn’t use to. Roxy and Detox are more toxic than Drano, and there’s no one to stop her from going out with them. Look, Lasky’s a sweet girl. A good, _smart_ girl. But she makes bad choices sometimes, and there’s nothing that I—that _we_ —can do about it. She’s gotta be the one to say enough is enough.”

Katya understood. Katya understood more than she wanted to. She’d been a shell of a girl drowning in the voices in her head not too long ago. It didn’t matter how many hands reached out to her if she refused to take them. Alaska—happy and hopeful Alaska—might just be drowning, too. Katya wondered if she drank to impress, to keep up, or to forget.

Jinkx promised that she’d look over Alaska until the next morning, so Katya reluctantly chose to rejoin the land of the living downstairs. The first floor was significantly louder than it was when she left it. Games of flip cup and beer pong had picked up in the dining room, and Violet’s flock had not only grown, but had grown to include both Trixie and Bianca, who were trying their hardest not to laugh at the spectacle in the middle of the living area. Willam and Courtney were having a major bitchfest for all to see. Normally, Katya would run for the hills, but if Bianca and Trixie weren’t afraid of getting caught in the crossfire, she figured it was safe enough to stick around and tuned into the conversation.

“Your tone seems really pointed right now,” Willam pursed her lips. She was clearly the calmer of the two, as Courtney was beet red and positively radiating tension. Katya could tell Willam’s nonchalance was only winding the Australian up more.

Courtney folded her arms defensively. “Well, I’m sorry you think that, Willam,” she took a deep breath. “I feel like everything I say kinda comes from the heart, and I’m truly hurt that you threw yourself at Daniel when you knew how I felt about him.”

“Sorry ‘bout it,” Willam scoffed, picking at her nails. Her words reflected everything but the sentiment they were meant to.

Katya knew that Willam was a bitch, but this was a little much even for her. Willam and Courtney had been best friends since Courtney moved from Australia the summer of their freshman year; it was hard to believe that Willam would throw their relationship away. Katya held her breath. Everyone in the wings was uncomfortable during the pregnant pause. The scene before her was straight out of a 90s teen movie, and she didn’t have the popcorn to go with it. 

All movement stilled when Willam finally looked up. “I tend to think emotions are for ugly people,” she deadpanned. The room let out a collective gasp. Courtney was across the room in a flash, and her palm made contact with Willam’s cheek. It would be logical to assume that Willam, who was just slapped across the face by her best friend, would be the most in shock at the sudden turn of events; it would also be the wrong conclusion. Courtney’s features were frozen in fear. The offending hand still hovered in the air, trembling like a leaf. 

Willam was the first to react—and in a very uncharacteristic way. She engulfed the smaller girl in a tender hug. Courtney began to sob muffled apologies into her neck, and despite her obvious desire to recoil, Willam continued to hold her close.

 _Maybe Willam actually does have feelings_ , Katya’s eyebrows raised. The sight of Willam whispering words of reassurance into Courtney’s ear was enough to make even the coldest heart melt. Well, the coldest heart with the exception of Violet Chachki’s. Katya was pretty sure the stick up her ass was a permanent installment.

When the two pulled apart minutes later with smiles on their faces, they were met with a round of applause. Courtney wiped at her eyes, careful not to smudge her makeup. If she noticed Willam’s arm around her waist, she didn’t give any indication as she addressed the spectators that had gathered, “Well, I’m gonna need to be less sober before I spill any more about myself. Truth or drink, anyone?” 

_Truth or drink? No thanks_ , Katya turned to sneak out. Unfortunately, Bianca had also chosen that exact moment to glance in her direction, and Katya was caught in the act. 

“Bitch, you can’t leave yet. It’s not even midnight!” Bianca half whispered, half hissed. 

_And Bianca doesn’t associate with losers_ , Katya reminded herself. _Don’t be a loser._ “If my locker gets filled with worms next week, I _will_ personally marinate you like a chicken,” she promised her friend. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Blame it on Bianca Del Rio. Take a number, sweetheart, you’re holding up the line,” Bianca patted the space next to her on the floor. 

Laganja had batted her eyelashes—and used her mouth—to coerce one of the mindless jocks to bring in one of the kegs from outside for their “slumber party secret sesh”. There were fifteen girls, including Katya, who stuck around for the potentially risky game, and Katya wasn’t thrilled to be playing with most of them. Adore finished off her beer and placed the empty bottle in the center of the circle. 

“Party!” Adore shouted before giving the bottle a good spin. Around, and around, and around it went before coming to a stop at Coco’s feet. “Miss Coco Montrese, truth or dare?” She asked.

“I’ll pick truth, mama,” Coco answered.

Adore thought for a moment before speaking, “Are you afraid that you’ll always be the runner up?” There was a chorus of oohs. Everyone knew that the race for junior varsity squad captain their sophomore year was a sore spot for both girls. It was no secret that Alyssa was originally chosen to be captain by her teammates. However, when she became implicated in a cheating scandal, Coach Calhoun was forced to denounce her and give Coco, Alyssa’s best friend and the candidate to receive the second most votes, the position. To make matters worse, it was rumored that Coco was the one who suggested that Alyssa had committed academic dishonesty in the first place. Alyssa and Coco had patched up their friendship over the course of the last year, but there was no telling whether or not the structure would hold if tested.

“Out of respect for me and Miss Alyssa, I am going to drink,” Coco responded without hesitance. Adore poured her a shot, and Alyssa gave her hand a grateful squeeze as she tossed it back. “Ain’t no use bringing up what’s past.”

Coco spun the bottle next, and it chose Trixie as its victim. “Truth or dare?” Coco asked.

“I think I’ll pick dare?” Trixie responded with hesitance. Katya didn’t know much about Coco Montrese, but for Trixie’s sake she hoped Coco was one of the nice ones.

Said cheerleader gave Trixie a small and genuine smile, “Okay, mama, I dare you to let Miss Pearl over here do your makeup. Something has got to be done because you aren’t doing a pretty girl like yourself any favors.” The reactions to Coco’s dare for Trixie were mixed. Some of the she-demons tried and failed to hide their amused laughs, Pearl’s eyes opened fully, Violet’s grip on her chair tightened, and Trixie seemed to be not entirely opposed to the idea.

“Pearlie girl,” Trixie began, standing up and crossing to her best friend on the opposite side of the circle, “Treat my face like a princess and then fuck it like a slut.” The life-sized Barbie batted her eyelashes animatedly, earning her a laugh from pearl and a glare from Violet. The ice queen’s elevated irritability prompted Katya to reconsider her previous assessments—maybe it was an entire branch up her ass.

When Pearl and Trixie left, there was a void that seemed to swallow Violet whole. The physical space around her remained largely unchanged, but Katya could _feel_ the emptiness that moved to fill the space Pearl left. And for the first time it occurred to her that Violet Chachki might be alone. _I guess there might be some truth to the saying_ , she mused. _After all, if you’re at the top, how can anyone else be?_ When you stripped away the glitter, the makeup, the clothes, you were left with a girl—albeit an arrogant, entitled, straight up cunt—plain and simple.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown, huh?” Bianca nudged Katya’s arm, snapping her out of her thoughts. 

“What?” Katya asked. Had she missed something while she was contemplating the character of Violet Chachki?

Bianca chuckled, “You’ve been staring at Chachki since Trixie and Pearl left.” The blonde feigned innocence. “You know how I feel about that 48 Hours show, Zamo. Share with the class before your peanut brain short circuits.”

“What’s her problem?” Katya whispered. “I mean, aside from her general disdain for anything that has a pulse and moves.”

“With Trixie?” Bianca confirmed. Katya nodded. “Oh, this is old news. Her Royal Hardass doesn’t share, but Sleeping Beauty’s got a soft spot for one Trixie Mattel.” 

The dots aligned in Katya’s head once again. “Violet’s the pumpkin carriage!” She whisper-shouted. 

“Bitch, that was _not_ English,” Bianca snarked, “You been hanging around with Jose Cuervo?”

Katya rolled her eyes at her friend’s question, “I have ninety-nine problems, and substance abuse won’t be one of them if I have anything to say about it.” She turned back to the circle just in time to see the neck of the bottle stop on Bianca, who didn’t even flinch. Katya was secretly proud; her friend had bigger balls than most of the ‘macho men’ at the party—this was going to be interesting. Since Trixie had gone upstairs to get her face redone, Detox decided that she would be the brave volunteer to issue the next truth or dare. 

“Bianca, truth or dare?” Detox asked smugly. Katya couldn’t guess which one would be worse. Unsurprisingly, Bianca chose dare. “I dare you to ask Max for his number.” There was, again, a chorus of oohs, and it was Bianca’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Really, bitch?” Bianca asked. She stood up and righted her denim shorts before striding over to the meatheads playing beer pong with a clear purpose and her head held high. 

Because Bianca could run with the boys, no one batted an eye—unless she wanted them to. She hoisted herself up onto the pool table in front of Max and held out an upturned palm. They were too far away to make out their conversation, and Katya was a terrible lip reader at best, but she could picture how the exchange would go down:

 _“Gimme ya’ numbah, beefstick_ , _”_ She imitated Bianca in her head. The 1920s gangster voice was a bold choice, but she wasn’t going to mock it just yet. 

_“D’uhh...okay_ , _”_ Fake Max droned. 

The blonde chuckled to herself as the real Max stuck a fist in the pockets of his jeans and fished around. Finally, he produced what looked like a wadded up gum wrapper and snagged a pen from his pal, presumably jotting down his number. Bianca hastily took the offering and sashayed back to the group of girls. She dropped the wrapper in Detox’s lap before taking her seat by Katya.

While the hens squawked over her success, Bianca leaned over to Katya and whispered, “Never let a bitch see you sweat.” Katya had so many questions, but she wouldn’t be able to ask them until later. It was Bianca’s turn to spin the bottle, and Adore, unsurprisingly, chose truth when landed on.

“Adore, which girl on the squad is the skunkiest?” Bianca waggled her thick, black brows. Because she was the mascot and didn’t change in the locker room, she genuinely had no idea how rank the girls smelled after practice or a game. Sue her; she was curious. What Bianca also didn’t know was that the question had a definitive answer, and that answer would do damage far beyond her intent to poke a little harmless and innocent fun at one of the girls.

Even completely sloshed, Adore recognized the gravity of the question. “Fuck! If I drink any more, I’m gonna be sick,” Adore groaned. Her teammates looked at her with pity in their eyes.

“Yeah but it’s not like anyone’s ever died from drinking too much!” Laganja came to her rescue, topping off her cup, “What’s one more?” Adore could only offer her a weak smile.

“Uh, I think I’m just gonna spin the thing now...For everyone’s sake,” Adore informed the group. The bottle landed on Gia, and she picked dare.

The turns only seemed to bleed together as time went on. After Gia drank from the toilet, Roxy refused to reveal her weight. Laganja told her dad she was eloping in Vegas, and when she spun the bottle it landed on Violet. Because ladies don’t kiss and tell, the brunette tossed one back instead of revealing the number of sexual partners she’s had. Alyssa confessed that she was afraid she would never achieve her dream of owning her own dance studio. Courtney shared that she’d never been in love, and Willam exposed her entire browser history, telling Katya a lot more than she wanted to know about the girl. For obvious reasons, Joslyn refused to eat a raw egg. Detox followed by removing Adore’s socks with her teeth. Katya played it safe and suggested that Bianca would be a bad date because she’s insulting people all the time before daring Gia to reveal any childhood nickname she had. Things didn’t start going downhill until the bottle landed on Violet a second time.

“Violet,” Gia cooed, “Truth or dare?”.

“Truth,” Violet answered with an unreadable expression.

Gia thought for a moment before asking the first truly problematic question of the night, “Who in this room do you like the least?” 

_Ruh-roh_ , Katya winced. 

Violet didn’t waste a moment before answering, “Willam.” There was a collective gasp across the room. Willam, on her part, didn’t seem to be phased in the slightest. Then again, you could never really read Willam Belli.

Pearl and Trixie returned, arm in arm, before Violet could spin the bottle. Katya’s jaw—along with all the other girls’—dropped. Trixie looked _gorgeous_. Pearl reclaimed her seat next to Violet, much to the cheerleader’s delight, but brought Trixie with her. At the group’s insistence, Trixie was allowed to take the turn that she missed, and Detox was dared to call a random number in her phone and deliver the worst pickup line she could think of. Katya was glad for the change in the room’s atmosphere after Violet’s confession until Detox took her turn. After the call, Detox dared Violet to spend the next hour trapped in a bathroom with another girl from the circle chosen at random. Anyone who didn’t know Detox might think she was trying to create a seven minutes in heaven type deal, but even Katya could pick up on her intent to stir up trouble. She pitied the poor soul who ended up stuck in there. 

Of course that poor soul ended up being her, and she wasn’t about to pussy out in front of the most popular girls in school. Peer pressure was a bitch. Judge, jury, and executioner had all decided it was her time, and she accepted that; she just wished her death march had a better soundtrack. Katya would be cooped up in one of the Honards’ bathrooms with a less than pleasant—soon to be considerably more less than pleasant—Violet Chachki. She was going to punch Detox in her stupid mouth. 

Katya entered the bathroom the same way she’d rip off a band-aid: quickly and without much thought for the immediate consequences. Violet, who was perched on the bathroom counter, had been engrossed in her phone when the door swung open to reveal the one girl that she just couldn’t seem to get away from. Unsurprisingly, the cheerleader wasn’t thrilled.

“Really, bitch?” Violet griped, giving Katya a once over. It wasn’t like the situation was ideal for either of them.

Katya put her hands on her hips, “You know what you can suck? My whole dick.” She unenthusiastically plunked herself down against the wall opposite of the door. “We’ve got two options, Chachki, we can either suck it up and spend the next hour in here in silence, or we can French a little.” Violet was aghast at her words. If Katya were a proper woman, she might have been able to hold in the cackling fit prompted by the girl’s scandalized reaction. Violet wasn’t impressed with her wheezing, either. Katya finally calmed down and attempted to explain herself, “Sorry, I could have been more clear, but your reaction was priceless.” She wiped at her eyes. “Thanks. I needed that. Detox said she was ‘feeling generous,’ and if we so choose, we can suck face and then get the hell out of Dodge.” Violet sneered, and Katya wondered if it was with anger or disgust; she didn’t know which one was better. 

“As fucking if,” Violet scoffed, clearly feeling as though Detox’s so-called coup de grâce was more of a personal attack. 

“Well, I don’t see anyone lining up to get the kiss of the spider woman, either,” Katya observed. “I told you that you weren’t going to like it.” The cheerleader exhaled sharply, and she was surprised not to see steam come out of her flared nostrils. 

Violet pursed her lips, “Just shut up and stay on your side of the room.” With that, Violet returned her attention to her phone, but Katya didn’t fail to notice that her expression didn’t soften. If Katya weren’t trapped in the room with her, she’d probably find Violet’s situation hilarious.

Katya had made the mistake of leaving her jacket—and consequentially, her phone—on the coat rack in the hall. Call her old fashioned, but it was a force of habit. Besides, she didn’t need her phone because Bianca was supposed to be there to pull her out of trouble if it arose. _But are we really surprised to find ourselves here?_ Katya asked herself. _No. Not at all._ At least she found herself entertaining. Hoping to bring forth inspiration, she laid back on the floor, let her gaze unfocus, and tried to lose herself in the plain ceiling. Katya didn’t know how long she’d been drifting for when Violet’s voice shattered the silence.

“Fuck!” Violet cursed, and the sound of hard plastic hitting the floor made Katya’s whole body go rigid. She squeezed her eyes shut. _I am not going to be equipped to handle this_ , Katya bristled. _Maybe if I just keep my eyes closed, I can fall asleep_ . It seemed like a feasible plan until she heard the first sniffle. _Of course I find out she has feelings when I’m stuck in a room with her_ , the blonde facepalmed inwardly. _Why today, of all days, to be railed in the ass by life?_ Her left eye opened first, searching for any signs of danger before being followed by her right eye. 

“I knew you didn’t like me Chachki, but I didn’t think you found me this repulsive,” Katya spoke. “Quite frankly, it’s offensive.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat, but the usual venom in her voice was gone. Katya propped herself back up against the wall to get a better look at the girl on the counter. Her attention was unwanted, and Violet turned towards the door with a huff.

Clearly comedic relief wasn’t the answer. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Katya tried again. No response. The girl’s side profile was growing red and blotchy, and Katya had sent her mom enough photos of her crying to know that Violet was trying and failing to stifle an emotional response. Go figure. “I won’t tell anyone if you cry, you know?” She said softly. “Bottling it up is just gonna make you feel shittier than you do now.”

“Do you think I’m a goddamn idiot?” Violet barked. She wiped furiously at her eyes before whirling around in an attempt to intimidate the blonde. “Better make your fifteen minutes last.”

Katya was genuinely taken aback. _Does this bitch really think I’m in on this?_ She shook her head incredulously. _Her airhead friends would literally eat me alive, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t given her any reason to think that I’m faker than Malibu Barbie. If I were made of plastic, why in the hell would I keep my hands this small?_ “Are we really back on this bullshit, Violet?” Katya snapped. “I’m sorry you think that the universe revolves around you. I hate to burst your bubble, but I have better things to do than conspire against you with your teammates over scones. Get over yourself, Princess.” In her head, Katya blew the smoke from the pistols in her hands. _Call me perestroika, Mother, for I am reforming problematic practices,_ she hooted.

“Whatever,” Violet grumbled. Katya, on the other hand, wasn’t willing to let this go; some conversation was better than nothing.

“How’s the back?” The blonde inquired and was pleasantly surprised when Violet outright snorted at the shift in conversation. Katya took her in as she threw her head back in laughter. There was something about this Violet—the unguarded and natural Violet—that captivated her. Violet’s eyes crinkled, and she clasped a hand over her mouth in a flimsy attempt to stifle the noises she was making. It was frustratingly endearing.

Violet cleared her throat before answering, “Fucked. I’m considering outlawing acrylics on the squad. That shit’s not even practical for a cheerleader, and it’s hurting like a bitch to corset.”

“You’re wearing a corset?” Katya gasped. For the first time that night, she took all of Violet in. She wore a nude illusion dress with a loose black lattice pattern. It covered just a little more than her ass and was cinched at the waist with a rocker belt, squeezing her in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. _How in the world do you hide a corset under that?_ Katya wondered. In addition to the dress, she donned thigh high, slick black boots and a thick, black leather choker that looked more like a collar. Hot damn, Katya could _n e v e r_ , and she knew it. She finally composed herself, “First of all, you’re literally a cheerleader with a body to die for. Second of all, why wear something that hurts you?”

The cheerleader didn’t even seem phased by the inquiries, almost like she’d dealt with them hundreds of times before, “Pain is beauty, and _I’m_ the prettiest.” Katya couldn’t argue there. Violet _was_ beautiful, but she still thought her ideology was questionable. 

“So what actually happened at the pep rally? We all saw you fall, but I’ll believe it was your fault when the garden is full of ducks holding pastry in their hands. You’re too much of a hardass.”

Violet raised her eyebrows, as if daring Katya to say it again, “I will let that slide only because it’s technically a compliment. And you’d be correct; I am a _professional_ , unlike others. You’d do well to take note: one of my biggest pet peeves is when people don’t take the things I love as seriously as I do. I accept nothing less than perfection.” 

“That must be lonely,” Katya couldn’t stop the words from spilling from her mouth. “You know, having such high standards? Does anyone ever make the cut?” Opening her mouth was clearly a mistake because Violet seemed to shut down all at once. 

“What do you know about how I feel?” Violet fired back, crossing her arms over her chest. 

_Keep digging yourself deeper, why don’t ya?_ Katya shook her head. She needed to tread carefully. It was a miracle that she had even been having a civil conversation with Violet in the first place, and she didn’t want to ruin the progress they had made. “I know that you work harder than anyone else on that squad, and nobody gives you credit or appreciates you for it,” Katya began. “I know that people are fast to discredit your talent because of how young you are. I know that you’re waiting for the day those bitches stop hoping that you’ll screw up or get hurt, the day you can finally stop looking over your shoulder, the day that you no longer have to prove yourself. I know that you’re tired of fighting tooth and nail for the respect that you’ll probably never earn, and I know it’s fucking _hard_ for you to pretend that your peers aren’t harboring resentment towards you. I know that at night you try to wash it all away because you’re still holding out hope that it will all be worth it in the end. Cheer and theatre aren’t that different. It was obvious in the gym, and it’s obvious now.” Katya took a deep breath. Maybe she’d been thinking a little more about Violet that afternoon than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t meant to go off on a tangent like that, but she certainly didn’t regret what she said. Based on Violet’s reaction, however, maybe she should have. The brunette’s hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Katya tried to backtrack, “Violet I—”

Katya was cut off by the bathroom door swinging open. Pearl, who stood oblivious on the other side, immediately noticed the state of her friend. “Vi?” Pearl approached her hesitantly. Violet’s gaze didn’t move from the floor. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.” She moved to lift Violet’s chin up, but Violet recoiled from her touch.

“Don’t touch me!” Violet shouted, her voice almost frantic. Katya’s eyes darted from one girl to the other. Pearl, who was visibly shocked by her reaction, looked hurt, which was very uncharacteristic for the mellow girl. Katya, herself, had never seen anything but characteristic nonchalance reflected on Pearl’s face, and the change made her uneasy. 

Pearl took a reluctant step forward and spoke in a whisper, “Violet, did something happen? You know you can tell me anything.”

“Is that the _truth_ , Pearl?” The brunette questioned. “Because clearly I don’t know you as well as I thought I did.”

Pearl shook her head in frustration. “Cut the crap, Vi,” She demanded, “You’re literally my best friend, and—”

“Bullshit!” Violet interrupted. “I call motherfucking bullshit!” Both girls were standing now with less than a foot between them, the situation escalating by the second, and Katya was stuck in the middle of it. She tried to push her back further into the solid wall behind her, but there was nowhere for her to go. _Fuck me!_ Katya grimaced. _Why is Toxic so damn appropriate right now?_

“What the hell, Violet?” Pearl shouted back. “God, you’re fucking impossible.” 

“Fuck you, Pearl!” Violet pushed Pearl, and the blonde hit the wall with a dull thud. “Fuck you! You and I are done! You hear me? _Done_ ! Save your goddamn lies for that pathetic dress up doll. I never want to see you again.” With a huff, Violet stormed out of the bathroom, leaving an uncomfortable Katya and a drained Pearl alone. _What the fuck just happened?_ Katya tried and failed to process the encounter.

She was caught off guard when Pearl finally acknowledged her presence. “Forecast predicts drinking to forget,” Pearl deadpanned, nodding her head towards the door Violet had just stormed through. “Want in?” Katya shook her head furiously. Getting piss drunk with those two would be like making smalltalk with a Molotov cocktail. She’d pass. She’d pass _hard_. Pearl seemed to understand. “It’s flazéda or whatever,” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. “Just do me a solid and remind me to fuck with Willam’s weed on Monday.”

Katya didn’t know what “‘flazéda’” meant, or the why and how of Pearl tampering with Willam’s weed, but the questions weren’t enough to persuade her to stick around the party longer. When Pearl left, Katya made a run for the Honards’ front door. She grabbed her jacket before taking off down the street. The blonde didn’t stop until she could no longer hear the music pulsing from the house. Her phone buzzed in her pocket with a text from ‘Bianca del Realest’:

_Bitch, where are you?_

_What the fuck happened in there?_

_Earth to Yekaterina?_

Katya sighed and pocketed the phone again. She’d call her when she got home. That would buy her some more time to put the experience into words...and to decide just how much information she should share. 

The drive home from the Honards’ was quiet—too quiet. Music normally made being in the car enjoyable, but there was something about the night that didn’t allow Björk to keep her out of her own head. It didn’t feel _real_ , and that terrified the shit out of her. Life was monotonous, life was mundane, life was one of those stupid time loop movies where you had to learn from your mistakes over time and find out what was important in the stupid haystack of chaos. Violet Chachki and her ex best friend potentially ex best friend were not supposed to have the Chernobyl of all relationship meltdowns in Alaska Honard’s guest bathroom right in front of her. Katya didn’t know who opened this tragic can of worms, but when she found them, she was going to slap a bitch silly.

  
  
  



End file.
